


Assassin

by jecrismonamis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Songfic, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jecrismonamis/pseuds/jecrismonamis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was a killer, was the best they'd ever seen - I'd steal your heart before you ever heard a thing - I'm an assassin and I had a job to do - Little did I know that boy was an assassin too"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assassin

Sam was a lady killer. He hadn’t been turned down by a girl in five years. Sure, some had been reluctant at first, but he had an irresistible way of seduction that never failed him. He would sweet talk them anywhere, on the street, in a bar, even in the grocery store. He’d convince them to go out to dinner with him, and of course, he’d always pay. Then, if the date was going well and the girl was substantially intoxicated, Sam would persuade her to join him in a hotel room. If she said yes, which happened 95% of the time, he had it in the bag. His tactics were self-centered, really. He’d get in, he’d get done, and then he’d get gone. He never left a trace of his presence and would always be gone by sun-up. Sam had never felt an ounce of guilt for his behavior.  
  


Dean was the ultimate ladies man. His whole life he had been fending off the girls falling at his feet. Since he came of age, Dean had a pretty standard strategy. He’d wine ‘em and dine ‘em and take them to bed. For him, it was very little effort. Between his deep raspy voice, youthful sense of humor, and sweetly freckled skin, his looks and personality did all the hard work for him. About the only tricky bit was convincing the older ladies, who were his specialty, that he knew what he was doing. And even that didn’t take long once he got them in the bedroom. But that’s about where the passion stopped. Dean wasn’t one for love or relationships; he was just a guy who liked to have himself a good time. And for that, he had no regrets.  
  


During a wild night out in Vegas, Sam was sitting at the bar of club, having his umpteenth drink of the night. Something felt different for Sam, but he wasn’t sure quite what it was. He had only hit on a few girls, but hadn’t made a move in hours. For some reason, tonight he was just not interested.  
  


On the other side of the club, Dean was stumbling all over himself, slurring his words, and spilling his drink on a lovely milf who had just gone through a divorce. She was hot, desperate, and over forty, just how Dean liked them. Maybe it was the excessive amount of booze he had consumed, or maybe he misconstrued her intentions, but Dean could not seem to keep her interested. She ended up excusing herself from their conversation, leaving Dean feeling a bit down and out.  
  


As he made his way to the bar, he ran into a man about his age with tan skin and long, lucious hair. Their eyes locked for a fleeting second, and Dean was instantly intrigued by this broad and handsome stranger. He wanted him, irrationally and irrevocably. Blame it on the alcohol, but Dean was up for a change of scenery.  
  


Just as Sam was about to leave, a broad man with an impeccable jaw line bumped into him, making brief but impactful eye contact. Sam could see it, as those emerald green eyes darkened, just what the man wanted. And Sam wanted it too. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t one to swing that way. If he wasn’t going to get a girl, he might as well try a man on for size.  
  


“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” Dean asked, his eyes full of wonderment.  


“You know a good place nearby?” Sam asked in return.  


Dean smiled wickedly.  


“Of course.”  
  


The hotel was only a block down the street, and the walk was nearly silent between the two. Sam paid for the hotel and tried his best to ignore the judgemental looks of the concierge. As he took the keycards and left the desk, Dean followed close behind. Sam could hear him whisper to the man something along the lines of, “Just trying to mix it up a bit.”  
  


First thing Dean did when they got up to their room was raid the mini-bar and pop open a few small bottles of wine. It wasn’t as if his inebriation had worn off, it was just part of his usual plan. He couldn’t see why it wouldn’t work on a man as well.  
  


Sam sat on the bed, feeling a bit dizzy. He couldn’t tell if he was really, really drunk, or just sobering up, but when the broad man passed him a bottle of wine, he took it gladly. If anything, it might help him forget whatever was about to happen tonight.  
  


They had tried to start a conversation, just to break the ice, but it just ended up in a hot mess of tongues lapping each other over. Next came the clothes, and before long, the two were entangled in a mess of sheets. Skin against skin, the strangers were exposed and vulnerable in a passionate heat.  
  


Sam was awoken the next morning by bright sunlight shining through the curtains, reflecting off the wine bottles on the sill. For a moment, he was scared. The little white room was unfamiliar, until he realized he was not alone. And in an instant he remembered. The deep, raspy voiced man who was so commanding in the previous hours now lay curled up next to Sam, his gentle face resting on his tan, inked chest. It had been ages since Sam had actually stayed the night in a hotel, especially under these circumstances. But the man looked so innocent, like a sleeping child. Sam couldn’t bring himself to wake him. Something about him was so beautiful. He seemed so peaceful. Sam was captivated, and suddenly he knew he was in over his head. This man, whose name he did not know or remember, was taking his breath away just by sleeping.  
  


Dean’s eyes fluttered open, the familiar smell of sex and alcohol filling his airways. He gently rubbed his face against the tan chest on which he was laying.  


“Good morning,” he mumbled, sighing gracefully.  


He swiftly got up and began to rummage around the room for his clothes, disposing all evidence of the night before. He looked over at the handsome boy from last night, who was sitting up in bewilderment.  


“I don’t know about you, but I think last night was worth the ride. Pretty sure I’ll still go for the ladies, but I wouldn’t mind swinging this way again,” Dean said with a wink, putting his clothes on. He grabbed his jacket and keycard, and after briefly checking his wallet, he made his way for the door. “Thanks for the great night. I’ll see you around.”  
  


And with that, he was gone. No name, no number, and for Sam, not even a decent memory. But as he was sitting in the bed, watching the broad man clearing out the room, he had an out of body experience. He was floating above the room, looking in, and he could see everything. And all he could see was a reflection of himself in the man.  
  


Sam was a lady killer, practically an assassin. He was the best. He’d steal your heart before you ever heard a thing. But little did he know, this man was an assassin too.


End file.
